This Is War
by TheCrimsonBlades
Summary: Set after Season 3: Mike has been abducted by Kagema, Grandpa's evil twin, who is set on retrieving the floating sword. Or is he? Will Amanda and Owen be able to save him in time?


**_A/N _**

_**Hey guys! I have recently gotten addicted to Supah Ninjas, and I got extremely mad when they didn't continue the show. I really wanted to know what happened to Mike after he was taken, so I decided to come up with Season 4 myself! I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

_The Cell_

Darkness.

There was not a single shred of light in the area as Mike awoke from his unconscious state. The only sound made was of a leaking water pipe across the room, hitting the cold, hard ground with a barely audible splash echoing through the fairly vacant place. His chest throbbed, feeling sore and defeated. The ninja had no recollection of what occurred, but he wasn't trying to find out at the moment. He was only curious as to where he was.

It was apparent that he was not at home. The ground on which he lay was algid, and had the rough texture a rock would have. The chill of the air nipped at his exposed arms, a valuable reminder that he was, indeed, alive. Mike pushed himself to an upright position, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his tense muscles. He pushed on, though, pulling himself to his feet using the wall beside him.

It seemed as though he was surrounded by rock walls on three sides, leaving the only way out to be forward. Mike walked slowly towards the exit, his feet rolling fully on the ground so as not to make any sound. Just as he reached the edge of the rock wall, however, his hand hit something smooth and had a glacial feel to it. He reached his other hand up, running it through the air as he walked from one wall to the other. His hand hit multiple of the same object. Bars.

Panic wasn't an option, but Mike couldn't help but worry as to what would become of him. Being secluded from anything that could help him escape, he was fully in the hands of his captors. He couldn't fight them off, because he was alone. One against a hundred would not turn out well for him.

The young ninja ran his fingers through his jet black hair, his brows furrowing in concentration as he tried to figure out what he was to do. However, his thoughts got cut off when an unfamiliar figure appeared on the other side of the bars, not a feature in sight. The silhouette shook his head before speaking in a low voice, the smirk obvious in his tone. "Good. You're awake."

Before Mike had a chance to respond, a sharp, stinking sensation pierced his neck, sending a shockwave of pain throughout his entire being. The figure chuckled as he clutched the dart that protruded from his nape, yanking it out only to produce more pain than before. Blood trickled down his olive skin in a thin stream as his knees began to buckle underneath him, the effects of the dart consuming his mind.

The dark figure walked away in satisfaction, leaving Mike unconscious once again on the rocky ground.

* * *

Owen Reynolds sat in the living room of the Fukanaga household, his fist shoved halfway into his mouth as he listened to the group of policemen banter in the kitchen. It had been two days since Mike went missing, and instead of looking for him, the police have been discussing the "possibilities".

Amanda sat across from him, her hands clenched in fists around groups of her blonde locks, the same position she had been in for two days. She was more beat up about this than anyone, and it was more than obvious. Everyday she skipped school and sat in Mike's favorite seat, listening to the investigation and thinking up her own. Every night she stood in the dojo, her eyes flitting from the computer screen to Mike's nun chucks that remained mounted on the wall.

The two were lost without their friend, who was a big part of the ninjas. It was nearly impossible to go on a mission without him. However, life went on outside the Fukanaga household. Robberies, beatings, and everything in between had continued nightly in Empire City. As always, Owen and Amanda went out to stop it all, only to come back and panic a little more.

Their parents eventually stopped asking if they were coming home, knowing that they were in good hands with Officer Fukanaga. So they didn't move that often, and rarely spoke outside the dojo. Each of them figuring out what to do about Mike's disappearance.

"They must have destroyed his phone." Amanda stated as she paced in the dojo. "We would be able to track him if they didn't."

Owen nods in agreement, his fist still connected to his mouth as he leaned against the dojo wall. "They must have him held up somewhere secluded. Somewhere nobody would even think of looking for him. It would have been a piece of cake to locate them otherwise."

The two continued to concoct logical reasoning for not knowing where Mike was, not once bringing up how they were going to find him. Hologramps watched in agony as the two contemplated the whereabouts of his grandson, shaking his head in dismay. "Perhaps you are not looking hard enough, young ones."

They stopped talking, looking from their objects of focus to the holographic man. Amanda shook her head quickly. "But Grandfather, we've already searched all of Empire City."

"You must look not with your eyes, but with your hearts. You are connected to Mike in more ways than you must realize." He nods in agreement with his own statement, holding his transparent hand to his heart. "You just have to understand how."

The dark skinned ninja stepped forward, dropping his hand to his side. "Then teach us."

Silence consumed the room for a minute or two, each waiting for Grandfather's reply. It grew suspenseful, so much that Amanda began ringing her hands around her shirt. After a moment, he emits a soft sigh, shaking his head. "It takes years to master fully."

"We don't have _years_, Grandfather!"

The two men's heads snapped to face Amanda, whose face was now flushed with embarrassment. She was starting to believe that they might not find Mike in time, and it killed her every time she thought about it. The young blonde slumped against the wall, returning to her daily pose, her fists clutching a group of her soft locks. If only they hadn't left Mike alone that day he disappeared.

Grandfather appears beside Amanda, his holographic hand hovering over her shoulder. "But I will teach you anyways."

* * *

When Mike came to, the sharp pain he had felt before returned, even more painful than before. He struggled to move at all, every muscle in his body screaming at him. It felt as though he was being weighed down, like an anchor was sitting on his chest.

As his eyes slid open, he immediately noticed the brightness in the room. He was no longer in the cold dungeon he had been trapped in, but this was no better. The atmosphere was still damp and musty, the few overhead lights that ran across the ceiling only allowed enough light to see what you were doing. The ground was made of wooden planks, though the walls that surrounded him were of cobble stone. There were a few windows, one on each of the four walls. The room was a perfect square shape, with a large door opposite of where Mike lay.

After a moment of his new found consciousness, Mike realized that he wasn't laying all. His arms were stretched above him, his wrists bound in rather tight iron shackles and chained to the ceiling. A trail of blood streamed from his neck and traveled down his now bare chest, which had a few cuts and scrapes of it's own. Mike's ankles, like his wrists, were consumed by iron shackles and chained to the floor. The shackles were tight enough to dig into his skin, inflicting just enough pain to keep him from moving too much.

"Mike Fukanaga." A bellowing voice called to him, it's owner no where in sight. Mike's dark mocha orbs flitted through the shadows, watching cautiously for his captor. It didn't take long for him to step into the light, recognition hitting Mike like a wrecking ball.

The man was quite old, yet physically fit. It seemed as though he were also mentally fit, because he looked to be as wise as Grandpa. In fact, even his physical appearance resembled Grandpa, aside from the single scar that stretched across his left eye. Kagema.

Kagema circled about the ninja's useless body, a sinister smirk aligning his pallid margins. "Finally, I have you in my grasp. I have been waiting for this moment since your cousin uncovered your little secret."

"You see, the floating sword is useless without a proper wielder, and you seem to have it all figured out, after holding it only once. I have held the sword many a time. Yet, it has chosen _you._" His bony finger jabbed Mike in the side, a scowl forming on his aged features.

He shook his head, moving back to the front of Mike. "This will not do. Now. In any other circumstances, I would just kill you, and take the sword for myself. But..."

Mike's features were hardening with every word that escaped Kagema's mouth. He braced himself for his next sentence to tie up what he was up to, not really sure what to think.

"I realized you would be more valuable to me alive than dead." Scarface's wicked grin returned, his seemingly weak arms crossing over his chest in a dominant fashion. "So, I am going to remake you."

With that, a rather bony fist jammed into Mike's stomach, forcing a pained groan to emit from the ninja's chapped lips. His teeth clenched as he doubles over, attempting to cover his abdomen with his arms, only to skin his wrist on his shackles. Words refused to come from his shaky being, and Mike knew it would be safer to just stay silent.

Kagema's mouth was suddenly beside Mike's ear, a harsh voice piercing his ear drums. "You are going to make an excellent warrior." And then he was gone.

But the pain wasn't.

Three of the Ishina ninjas appeared just as Kagema vanished, unfamiliar tools grasped in their calloused hands. Mike's fists curled into fists above him, every muscle in his body tightening as he eyed the intimidating objects in the ninjas' hands. One by one, they came up to him, swinging their torture device in his face before circling around him, another following. Once the three had each shown off their different clubs and whips, they came back to the front of him, and held it out in front of them in sync. It was as if it was rehearsed.

The middle Ishina stepped forward, his whip swaying back and forth like a grandfather clock. And then it hit him. The leather whip, with two strings attached to the handle, was bland and unexciting, but it cut through his skin like butter. Mike struggled to restrain a scream of pain, refusing to appear weak in front of his greatest enemy. The whip hit him three more times, each time sending a new trail of crimson plasma down his raw abdomen.

A thick rock then flew through the air, hitting the young ninja square in the chest. His breath escaped him, causing him to wheeze and collapse on himself. The shackles cut at his wrist as another hit his knee, forcing his legs to give out. Teeth gritting, Mike struggled against the pain, trying to force himself to blow out the feeling. To not let it get to him. But another rock hitting his stomach brought all his thoughts back to life. It seemed to last forever.

The last round of pain commenced as the final rock made impact with Mike's chest, the much larger Ishina waltzing right up to him. His dark eyes showed not an ounce of mercy for the useless boy, and somehow, Mike could tell that underneath his mask lay the same sinister grin that Kagema had. A fist suddenly jammed into his bloody stomach, causing his cuts to open even more, and a brand new ripple of pain to burst through the raven haired warrior. He released a pained scream, no longer able to keep it in. How would he be able to survive this? Surely the next blow would be even worse than the first.

But it never came.

Mike slowly opened his eyes, only to discover there was no one in sight. Not a single hooded ninja remained in this room of torture. He straightened, wincing as a fire shot through his entire being. They were gone. But Mike knew that they were not finished with him, and he feared they would never be.

Another sharp dart then flew towards him, seeming to slice through the air in slow motion. His instincts told him to move, but his body resisted. And the dart hit him right at the curve of his neck, reopening the wound that he had earned earlier that day. Within a minute, darkness was swallowing Mike whole, the corners of his vision blurring. He was left hanging in his shackles, blood streaming down his uncovered body.

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_Okay, I hope you liked it! It was super hard for me to write, because I hate hurting Mike, but other than that it was fun. I would like for you all to participate in this story. Tell me what you think Owen and Amanda should do! Thanks for reading!_**

**_~ Charlotte :)_**


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